CULTURE SHOCK: The Queen of Hearts Affair
by Felicia Angel
Summary: Disappearing socialites bring the attention of UNCLE, and the only girl who can go undercover is Elaine! Can Napoleon make her a lady in time? Warning: hint of yuri, but it's just a hint and not really there...
1. Act 1: Hasn't This been Done Before?

Disclaimer: The same as before, I don't own anyone but Celeste. Elaine is being borrowed.

Notes: No I have not seen _My Fair Lady_.

Another Note: FrogHermitJiraiya (the female half) helped by writing a few parts of this story, so look for her influence. If you don't see it...don't worry, at one point she'll write a full one on her own smirk

Synopsis: Missing ladies during various parties held by a socialite outside of New York forces UNCLE to send in a woman undercover. But the only person who fits the bill is Elaine! Can she pull it off?

Culture Shock

**Part 3: The Queen of Hearts Affair**

"He didn't!"

Elaine sighed as she leaned against the filing cabinet, watching Celeste file and talk like she often did when there was no work to be done. Sometime after the last Affair with them, Waverly had decided to put them to actual work, pushing Elaine into Translations and Filing while Celeste went into Inventory Management.

And while complaining they had just come from those types of job probably would've gotten them as far as them tossing a sumo wrestler, Waverly had pointed out that since they had done such a job before, they would be able to do it again.

Time difference and computers aside, Celeste had taken to liking her job, as she got to put things away and move it, while Elaine buried herself in work until Napoleon had tracked her down shortly before this mission for a dinner-date outside of the UNCLE Headquarters. All complaints were brushed off and paid for, rather elegantly, and it was this that Elaine had fallen to telling Celeste.

"He did."

"EVERYTHING?"

A nod and then a sigh from Celeste; while most people whistled in this situation, Celeste couldn't so she settled for sighing or facial features that conveyed the same results.

"That was when I got home to find you passed out and half the vodka gone."

Celeste shrugged. "It gets me by. Either that or head back down to Psych ward. You realize I now know why my father hates rehab." The file replaced, she turned back to her friend as she shut the file. "But still, that probably set him back a little. I mean..."

"He had to pick the fanciest restaurant in all of New York that included ballroom dancing. _Actual _ballroom dancing."

"So you mentioned sometime around the fact that people looked at you strangely for picking up the wrong fork, drank some of your stuff a little too quickly, and ate more then you should've on the second course of a five-course meal." Celeste looked upward before frowning, looking back at Celeste. "Didn't you say he said he took someone there before? After that Brain-Drain or whatever case? The one with Waverly in the hospital."

"Like I would know which Affair _that _was, and yes, he did. She apparently could dance. And was a little more...more..."

Celeste sighed. "Feminine?"

"Oh, jee, thanks."

"I would've been down here dinner if we waited on you to say _that _word." Her work, and Elaine's, done, they walked over to clock out and head to get something to eat. "I don't think it was a total bust."

"Since you and Illya don't go out, I don't see you complaining."

Celeste looked at her, then shrugged. "Illya goes out. He likes jazz clubs. He plays too, and sings, but he likes jazz. I've thought about letting him listen to the Seatbelts, but not sure if he wants Japanese jazz-funk-whatever."

Elaine paused. "Was that your own convoluted way of saying you guys _have _gone out?"

"On orders, yes."

This caused Elaine to stop. "_Orders?_"

"The psych people wanted me to be more social, and told me I was to go outside of Headquarters with someone or else. Deciding I didn't want to participate in anything resembling _One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest_, I asked Illya to take me out to one of his clubs. He agreed, we talked, I listened to him sing and play, I came back here, he went home."

"And then?"

"I drank half a bottle of vodka and passed out while waiting for you to get back from your non-mandatory date with Napoleon."

Elaine blinked. "So, let me get this straight. On the day I went out on my date, you left later on, spent some time with Illya, listened to him sing, then headed back here and proceeded to get drunk off vodka while waiting for me and passed out. Why did they give you a 'pass' on your psych eval again?"

"I scared them into it. Illya told me the trick for that particular shrink."

"He's done it before?"

"So has Napoleon."

"WHAT?"

Celeste frowned as they went inside of their small room. "I though you knew. Every time they're left alone with the enemy for more then a few hours, and torture could be involved, they get to have a psych eval to ensure nothing is wrong upstairs. Apparently Illya found out there's a pool on who will finally crack and be sent to the funny farm."

"I didn't need to hear that."

Celeste sighed. "Would it help if I told you Illya was ahead?"

"No."

* * *

"You seem unnaturally smug," Illya said as they walked in for a brief on their new mission, "I take it that date went well." 

"With Elaine? I thought it did. I must admit, she is a little rough around the edges, but she was very nice in the dress I helped her pick out."

"You picked her dress, treated her, and didn't let her pick up the tip, did you?"

"Why?"

Illya shrugged. "She strikes me as one of those feminist types. The pro-women and 'all are equal' ones. She might not have liked the fact you didn't let her tip."

"I was being a gentleman!"

"Most of them don't like that."  
Napoleon considered this and shrugged it off. "She didn't mention it."

"To you, no. But possibly to Celeste. I'll have to ask her should we go out again."

Napoleon paused. "You went out with Celeste?"

"Dr. Stephenson suggested it to help treat any depression she might have, and used a threat. She asked for a favor, so I took her to one of the jazz clubs nearby. She seemed to have a good time, then asked how she could get out of more sessions."

"Did you tell her?"

"I didn't think it would be nice to make her go through anymore. The way it sounded, Celeste has little if any tolerance for such sessions and was likely to get over her trauma in order to stab Stephenson to death with an envelop opener."

Napoleon fully paused on that. "I hope she didn't tell you that."

"No, but she mentioned a knife she brought with her and asked for something to sharpen it with."

"You two are odd."

"I will take that as a compliment and not a reason to plot something against you."

Napoleon nodded his thanks as they walked into Waverly's office. The section head of Section 1 was reading over a repot and motioned for them to sit down as he continued then asked, "Mr. Solo, what do you know about a Mr. Alistair S. Carruthers?"

Napoleon paused, searching his memory and finding that particular man. "Ah, rich, from rich money, hasn't really worked a day in his life, father owns a firm, ah...single, throws a lot of parties at his home a little north of the city..."

"Which, sadly, is also where a good deal of young women are disappearing from," Waverly told him as Napoleon glanced at the file with him, noting the faces and names. "Five girls in five weeks, Mr. Solo, all of them having gone to Mr. ah, Carruther's party and all of them having disappeared."

Illya glared as he looked over the picture of the richly-adorned house, the sizable paycheck, and finally the man himself. "Is he a suspect?" It sounded to the world like he wanted him to be.

"Unfortunately, no, as he never meets the girls, but due to it he is unable to get his normal escort for another rather large party he's throwing in a week. We need someone inside to check and see if she can spot something, anything, out of the ordinary. It might be a hard task to get in, though."

"Sir?" the two agents asked.

Waverly cleared out the used tobacco from his pipe as he continued. "He is very specific about the type of girl he enjoys to, ah, be with those nights, and has grown tired of the only one his Agency has who fits the description of his ideal, ah, companion."

"What are the specifications?" Illya said simply, "I'm sure Napoleon can tell you who, exactly, meets them here in Headquarters."

Napoleon resisted the urge to slap his partner on the head.

"Of that, I have no doubt."

He hated being double-teamed.

Waverly pulled out a small sheet and read it. "He requires a medium-sized girl, good sized bust, neither too skinny nor overweight, no tan, green or hazel eyes, any variety will work and, most importantly, light red hair."

Only one person came to mind at that description, out of the hundreds he'd met, and how he was going to pull this one off was beyond him.

_Act 1: "How many times has this been done?"_

"Not only no, hell no!"

"Celeste..."

"NO! The guy has a name straight out of American Psycho, you are NOT going in there without at least five knives and a way to mutilate _him _instead!"

Napoleon moved forward, mainly towards Elaine because he was sure Celeste would become violent if he moved that way. "Celeste, she will be under the best of care. I will be in the room with her. None of the escorts that Carruthers has gone with have been the victims. But we still need to figure out the common link between them, and we need to survey the area to make sure it doesn't happen again, or that if it does we can rescue the girl."

"Besides, he tries it and I'll pull out the red-head fu," Elaine tried. Celeste sighed.

"You realize the book I'm talking about is about a guy who is somehow able to elude police and do inhumane and disgusting acts on people, even if it's all in his head or not."

"Um...wait..."

"He's a rich psycho who gets a kick off torturing and mutilating girls, keeping their heads somewhere without the eyes in them, and putting a pair of sunglasses over it just for fun. He takes a New York sewer rat that climbed up his toilet and shoves it up a girl's--."

"Can we get to more pressing matters, like _how_ we're going to pull this off?" Elaine pointed out.

"Please." Napoleon looked a little green.

Illya sat up, putting the actual book down as he said, "I take it that we will need to make Elaine into more of a lady then she is already to pull this off?"

"The Agency sent over the list of standards," Napoleon held up the small file as Elaine blanched. "We have four days to make you a lady, one day for shopping, then another to see if he'll like you."

Elaine sighed, rubbing a hand through her hair. "This is starting to turn into a bad movie."

"Actually, it's a musical called--."

"Celeste? Shut up."

* * *

The ballroom was deserted, a courtesy of someone who had helped UNCLE out before, and the Agency man, a person called Bateman that made Celeste nervous, looked over Elaine once before looking back at Napoleon. "You have to be joking." 

"She fits the description."

"The description, yes, but not what we advertise!"

Celeste blinked. "Are you saying my friend's not good enough to be an expensive call girl?"

Bateman shook his hand in the air, dismissing the whole thing. "No, I am saying we have four days and there is not enough time to turn her into one who would pass for having the rigorous training we put our girls through."

"Like I said, not good enough to be an expensive call girl."

Napoleon cast the darker-haired girl a look. "Celeste, play nice. Bateman, I'm sure you're wrong. I'll admit she's a little rough around the edges, but we chip away enough of that dirt--."

"Napoleon!" Elaine yelled, glaring at the comparison.

"—and we will get a rather lovely diamond for our troubles."

"The problem," Celeste said from her position on the other side of Illya, "is how much dirt we have to go through."

Both Napoleon and Elaine cast dirty looks her way before Napoleon added. "Four days. It's all we have and we waste time arguing it. There are lives at stake."

Bateman cast another look at Elaine, assessing her, then sighed. "I shall see what I get in four days."

Napoleon smiled. "Good! You, ah, don't mind my help, do you?"

"Mr. Solo! When we train these girls, _I _am the only man present."

Illya now spoke up. "Yes, but this is a crash-course. You will have to make due with not only Napoleon but also myself and Celeste."

"Impossible!"

"Then we will do it ourselves," Illya told him, "Napoleon had turned many an ugly duckling into swans. This one is, I assume from his previous statements, halfway there, so not as hard as others."

Elaine blushed furiously at the comment before saying, "Are we going to start or not? If not, I would really like to get something to eat."

Bateman looked at her for a second, then nodded. "Fine, we'll start, but none of you," he pointed to the other three, "will interfere with my work!"

No one said anything as Bateman began with posture.

* * *

Celeste sat with her back to the area, as she had moved herself a little while ago after it turned out Elaine could stand straight and didn't take much yelling at to do. Napoleon was a very kind and easy teacher...Bateman, not so much so. 

"I've seen movies on geishas that didn't have this level of abuse," Celeste muttered to Illya as she listened to Bateman go over something about place sittings again. "What's the need for all this?"

"Ask Napoleon. I am a Communist, remember?"

Celeste looked over at him, then back. "Yeah, well, you have to blend also, don't you?"

"Even as a spy, I enjoy only playing a small part, and mainly for the food. I know the basics, but Napoleon knows all of it."

Celeste leaned her head back, now watching the scene in a type of upside-down fashion before putting her head back up. "He could be a little nicer about it."

"He has to train her in four days."

"Don't you guys have something that could do it in less?"

Illya considered it, then nodded. "But not on being a lady. You do not get any of that type of training in school?"

"If we did, I think Elaine would have said something. Nope, closest I can think of is Home Economics, which is an easy A and you learn how to sew, iron and bake a cake. The last throwback of this era and no longer mandatory for females to take. Though..." Celeste paused then said, "I think Elaine mentioned she took a lot of theater during her high school years. She knows how to blend make-up really well and can act. If anything, she can act like a lady."

Illya nodded. "I think she is doing that to get the man away from her sooner."

"Is it working?"

"Sadly, no."

"I say we start pissing him off to get him to leave."

Illya cast her a look that held all the mischief his blue eyes could contain. "Lets."

* * *

Napoleon could spot a conspiracy from a good ways away, and this one was unluckily something he didn't want to have working against him. Of course, he considered as he helped Elaine out with how ladies took their tea or had it poured for them, it wasn't directed at either himself or Elaine, but rather the man who had been a small thorn in Napoleon's side as it was. 

Not that Napoleon had ever had the type of money or cover that would require such a lady as the ones the Agency gave out to me. More to the point, though, he knew how they acted, how they were trained, and he had to think that Elaine could pull it off.

Bateman was not helping the situation and Napoleon actually had hoped the two would have joined in whatever unholy alliance they had decided on an hour ago.

The two were currently muttering something loudly enough to be annoying but not loud enough to be heard, and Celeste was giggling about it.

Bateman glared over at them as both Elaine and Napoleon hid a shared smile before Bateman said loudly, "Is there anything you two want to share with us?"

Celeste and Illya looked over a little sheepishly, though it was obvious that both were trying to hold in a laugh.

"Well?"

Celeste coughed. "We were, um, well, we were thinking maybe we should go and get something to eat. I mean, she must be hungry. All that tea and nothing to eat; I'm surprised she hasn't hit the head by--."

"Excuse me, what was that vulgar expression you just used?"

Bateman didn't realize how much he was digging his own grave.

Illya spoke up. "That is a Navy expression, far older then this form of being a lady is." He paused, "Are you calling the Navy vulgar?"

Celeste blinked. "Well, I understand cursing like a sailor, but the whole Navy? Wouldn't that include your Navy, Illya?"

"The one I was in? Yes, it would."

Bateman shifted as Napoleon went through the steps as slowly as he could and elaborated as much as he could.

"I'm sure no gentleman would insult something so steeped in tradition as the Navy," Celeste said, "Why, think of all the officers? Aren't they officers _and _gentlemen? I don't think they go through all of that schooling for nothing."

"We do not," Illya said, "and on top of being officers, you must also be able to hold your own against the enlisted. They must obey, but that does not mean they do not help you control the ship."

"A good gentleman, or one who _thinks _he's good, would apologize, wouldn't he Illya?"

"If he wanted to stay being _thought _of as a gentleman, he would."

Napoleon made several mental notes about not giving those two a reason to gang-up on him.

Celeste smiled at Illya before saying. "Well, let's have him apologize to you. After all, you are the higher-ranking person here."

He looked over at her, surprised. "Enlisted?"

"Guilty! We settle things like this with quarters in socks and blanket parties. Middle of the night type of stuff, you understand, right?"

"Of course. Though, perhaps if he apologized nicely enough for both of us, and perhaps got us all lunch, we wouldn't have to worry about such things, would we?"

"Considering we all live here together and will be for the next four days, I would think he _should _get us lunch for right now as a decent apology."

Bateman cleared his throat and nodded. "Very well. I shall see to it." With that, he left, and Celeste barely managed to hold in a laugh, the sound coming out more like a cross between a cough and a snort.

"You two are devious, evil people," Elaine told them, "You know that, right?"

The two nodded and sat back, watching and waiting for the food.

* * *

"So then," Illya told her from the table where manners were currently either ignored or a thing of the past, "he walks in and begins to dance! You'd think he was drunk already!" 

Celeste laughed as Bateman cast them both an evil eye while Napoleon took up the job of ensuring Elaine did know the steps. She assured him she did, but that was no excuse to not practice far away and close-up dancing with him, was it?

"I would pay good money for those photos!"

"Actually--."

"Illya, if you value your life...stop."

The two looked over and Illya gave a small smile. "I have more."

"I'm quite sure," Celeste leaned in, "and we have strawberry shortcake to finish."

"Why didn't we start with it?"

"Even the crass, uncivilized people like us should end with it. Something sweet to help out for later."

"I see. We are moving to innuendos now."

"Illya, I moved there sometime between the story of how Napoleon apparently got a kid to tag along with him and the story about that Marian Raven lady and her bad luck."

"Ah. I didn't notice."

"I was going in stages."

"Not just being crass now, but trying for tact."

Celeste gave them a smile as Elaine rolled her eyes. "They're shameless, aren't they?" she whispered to him.

"Oh yes, they are. But I think they have yet to sink to their lowest."

"Well, Celeste hasn't starting being vulgar--."

"And Illya hasn't started being flirty. I think we should move further away in case of explosions. Shall we try another style?"

"Close or distance?"

"He'll want you close, so we must practice that," he gave her a smile, "as much as possible."

Celeste had grabbed the two bowls of strawberry shortcake and looked it over critically. "There are so many bad things I could come up with in this cake. It's a walking advertisement for deviant, uncivilized acts."

"It's a dessert," Illya told her as he took hers and grabbed a soup spoon from nearby. "What is so deviant about it?"

Celeste gave him a look as she leaned back in the chair with her treat. "You're pretty dense for a world-traveling spy. Fine, the sexual nature of Strawberry Shortcake."

* * *

_Just move your feet. Try not to step on him, and try not to think about just how much you'd love to tackle him right now and do a few things... because that would be most improper, and we are here to learn manners..._

Of course, your best friend suddenly saying something involving a sugary cake and sex didn't help out the situation at all, but really, it was to get Bateman out.

Right?

Into her ear drifted Celeste's dialogue. "Now, let us take the fruit, the strawberry." She had picked one delicately from the whipped cream and showed it to Illya. "It's one of the best and few foods people use when playing sex games with such things."

"I thought that was the whipped cream."

"Whipped cream needs a longer dialogue and more visual presentations then a strawberry, plus can be used in more places safely. Well...can be eaten from more places safely."

Elaine decided that being close to Napoleon had it's advantages: you could lean in and hide the fact you were about to meltdown and start laughing or taking her advice.

Celeste leaned a little closer to Illya, who moved backwards. "What? I'm not about to steal any of your shortcake."

"Last time you leaned in, you played dirty and licked my face."  
Celeste blinked at him then shook her head, putting her own shortcake down a little ways away. "Illya, Illya, Illya. That was me being a little _low_. When I _really _start to play dirty, you'll figure it out rather quickly. Can I get back to how strawberries are sexual?"

Illya nodded and she smiled at him, running the strawberry over her bottom lip and partly inside her mouth. "They can be used as stimulation before the tongue even _thinks _of getting there, opening the person up to more then they would've gone for, and allowing for some extra calories to burn should later activities become...necessary."

Illya shifted, looking at his own and taking out a small strawberry as well. "But, for the meantime, they are simply...foreplay?"

She nodded, capturing her own strawberry with her tongue and pulling it into her mouth slowly before eating it.

"Well, now that that's done!" she wondered if she sounded too much like a tour guide. "Cake."

"What about the whipped cream?"

"I told you, longer dialogue due to the many places it can be held and eaten from in various fashions. Cake is a good crossover and prep for whipped cream."

* * *

Napoleon was wondering if they were being deliberately evil or if this was just something that was, like many of the missions, ad-libbed. 

He'd like to think that they would spare them the pain. Elaine was turning more and more into goo and this might not be a good thing in the end. Plus, all the talk about foreplay and sex...

He could control his libido, but not during a talk like _this._

Illya broke in. "I think I should have my say on cake."

"You said shortcake wasn't sexual."

"No, I said strawberry shortcake wasn't sexual. Since we've obviously learned firsthand what the uses for whipped cream are, and you obviously learned from various trials how well strawberries are, you should let me speak about cake."

Celeste gave him a large grin. "Are you an expert at the many uses of cake?"

"Cake, like strawberries, do help for the foreplay, especially when fed to the other person via the mouth. It allows one to take in the taste of the cake and the person."

"Hmmmm, really? I thought of that before."

"Ah, good. Well then, you should also know that small pieces eaten with toppings also help. Chocolate is preferred, of course, but that is a good aphrodisiac for many."

"Depends on the girl, true, but it's limited to the same dealings as strawberries, though I think they're more versatile."

"Oh, there is no doubt. But, of course, comes the final topping to this conversation."

"Whipped cream," Celeste then reached to take a scoop of whipped cream with her finger from Illya's dish.

"That's mine."

"I know. Come here and take it back," she moved her finger near his bowl, "Can't hurt. One of the few choice uses for it."

"Of course." At this point, Illya leaned forward and engulfed her finger in his mouth, licking and sucking the sugary substance off.

"ENOUGH!" Bateman's yell caused everyone to turn. "I will not allow this—this...DEVIANT ACT to continue!"

The two of them blinked at him, then looked at each other before Celeste shrugged. "I didn't think that was deviant."

"Not at all. Though an interesting demonstration of the many uses of such things. I should remember about the fruit later."

"Well, thanks for the cake thing. That was pretty cool too. Hey, did you know..."

"STOP!" Bateman finally reached over and grabbed his coat. "I have had ENOUGH of those two and you!" His finger pointed at Napoleon, who was giving the Agency man an innocent look, or the best one he could pull off at this point. "Just see if you can make her pass for a lady without my instructions! She'll be out the door in a minute! I cannot take this anymore!"

"Then leave," Illya said.

Celeste looked at Bateman, eyes traveling downward, then smirked, "And maybe get one of your eager young trainees to work on that--."

The door slammed behind him on the way out and Celeste sighed, digging into her own shortcake. "We should've thought of this earlier."

"We didn't have the food."

Celeste nodded. "True." She looked back at Elaine and Napoleon before looking surprised. "What? It was fun, but just an act. Right Illya?"

"Correct."

Elaine nodded weakly. "Well, excuse me, the...tea...caught up to me." She headed out one way while Napoleon just shot the two a mock-disgusted look and left on his own.

The two looked back at each other and shrugged. "Don't see what they were all hot-and-bothered over."  
"Nope."

"Perfectly fine for two grown people to discuss sex and be strictly platonic."

"Of course."

"Actually...maybe we should have sex."

"Now?"

"NO! They might come back too soon."

"Ah, good, because this is quite delicious."

"Yes, it is."

* * *

Elaine locked the door to the bathroom behind her and stood in front of the mirror, turning on the cold water and splashing some quickly in her face. 

"I hate those two," she muttered, then looked at her reflection. "Okay, stop thinking those things! Bad thoughts! Think of something less--."

With a frustrated groan, she splashed more water on her face then began her list. "Boot camp...not depressing enough, but close...tear gas, swamp-ass, being chosen as an observer for drug tests..." a light shudder, "_that _was fun...the day you found out your mother wears smaller panties then you do..." a larger shudder.

She looked back up and nodded. "Traumatized back into normal? Good. Now go back out there and make sure those two aren't actually doing anything—ARGH!"

More water went onto her face, and she began the new list of unpleasant things again.

* * *

Napoleon sighed. "Now I just have to get through three more days of this, as well as her getting fitted for a dress that will make her appealing to anyone who sees her. You've done it before, Solo. Just a job. Remember that." 

_Of course, considering how many women you have during and after the jobs--._

More water went onto his face and he groaned. "I might actually have to hurt Kuryakin for this one."

* * *

"He put your name in the paper as having bought the stocks? What did you say?" 

"That I would have his teeth for cufflinks."

"Well, he was limping so I guess that could happen..."

"Mr. Waverly would've disapproved."

"What happened in the end?"

"I got the girl. He got a fox."

"As in foxy lady or as in small furry animal?"

"The second. I named it Napoleon and used it as a diversion for the dogs when I went in to rescue Mr. Waverly's niece."

A pause. "You named the fox Napoleon?"

"He had Napoleon's luck."

Celeste looked around to where the two had gone off to. "Speaking of Napoleon, he's been gone a while. Elaine too. Do you think we put in too much innuendo for them?"

"I wouldn't think we did."

Celeste shrugged. "Actually, I would've expected Elaine to be gone this long. Not Napoleon."

"No. Should we find them?"

"Why, so they can kill us and stash the bodies?"

"They wouldn't...there aren't enough places to stash a body here."

"What if you cut them up into pieces?"

"Then maybe, yes, but you would need a place to cut it up and hide the blood."

"True...the bathroom?"

Napoleon paused as he heard Illya reply, "I would think so, yes, but only if it had a bathtub."

"What if you could get your hands on the stuff they used to scrub down hospital rooms? That would clear away anything!"

Illya looked at her and she shrugged. "Saw it on a crime show. Some rich doctor killed his wife because she wouldn't do everything he asked her to and because her sister sent her pictures of him having an affair with his secretary. Then he goes up in a plane with no flight plan. Two or so days later he reports her missing with presumably evil causes and gives the department access to her psychologist and whatever she said to him, an alphabetized list of her contacts, and then starts posting rewards and stuff for her."

"I take it her family dislikes him?"

"Well, her family basically says 'he killed her' and he says 'prove it' then buries himself by testifying and losing his cool on the stand. It's fun."

Elaine walked up beside him and blinked. "Are they talking about shows that involve murders and dismemberment?"

"How'd you guess?"

Elaine looked at him. "I know Celeste. She loves those shows. She also enjoys Mythbusters, but at times like this I wonder what would happen to the poor guy she decides to actually kill."

"So she _could _hide a body?"

"If she decided to, yes. If she asked for my help, very likely. Why?"

"I just realized if she asked for Illya's help it would probably be the same thing. Should we interrupt them?"

"Please. I don't like cop shows...don't ask why, I just don't."

Napoleon nodded his understanding. "You don't have to tell me anything, Elaine."

Elaine blushed. "You want me to stay in the bathroom all night, don't you?"

"No, that would be counter-productive. Let's work on something that will involve more acting and less footwork."

"Thank you."


	2. Act 2: Playing with the Queen of Hearts

_Act 2: "Playing with the Queen of Hearts"_

A day ahead of schedule, Napoleon and Elaine went out shopping for a dress that would, in theory, cause Alistair S. Carruthers to see only her that whole evening. While he originally thought green would work, the idea of red with red, as long as it was the right shade, fell in a little quicker then green and he decided to see if it could be done.

And while he was at it, he left Illya and Celeste back at UNCLE to search the files for possible connections between the missing girls and the party goers or between any of them.

* * *

"I think we should make his teeth into cufflinks now."  
"At least we're doing something productive. Besides, he always gives me the paperwork to do. Much better at it." A pause. "Though I might have to write the report myself..."

"I never said my handwriting was perfect, just passable."

"Napoleon's is better."

"If you're done critiquing my hand and wrist movements, can we get back to the homework we were assigned?"

* * *

The color that he and the ladies at the store had gone for was a cranberry red color, and the dress was cut to accent many things on her at once, but to still draw attention to her and her alone. Spaghetti straps held up the dress at her shoulders and the dip was low, showing off her bust while the back was cut down to the small of her back, allowing some dignity and also showing she wasn't completely loose. A strap along the back was there for both design and to help keep the dress on her, while a slit up the right side allowed her leg to show.

All in all, not a bad result, especially after the shoes, leggings, hair and make-up products were given.

Then he saw the price and hoped the expense account would take care of it.

* * *

Celeste ruffled her hair slightly as she walked into the room then blinked. "Wow. Overkill much, Napoleon?"

Napoleon gave her a tight smile. "Trust me, this will work."

"I trust you about as much as I trust hitchhikers on stormy nights," Celeste said, "So remind me why you aren't getting female help for this?"

"I am. It's everything else that I can help with."

Celeste looked over at Elaine, then shrugged before saying, "Can I at least have my bed back? If not, I'll have to camp out elsewhere."

Elaine looked around the area then sighed. "Sorry, Celeste."

A look around made Celeste shrug again. "No problem. I've camped out in worse places. Let me grab a few things then I'll help out tomorrow with whatever."

Napoleon and Elaine nodded before Napoleon asked, "Any luck with the girls?"

"Not really," Celeste said, "Illya's checking all the angles and I think it's simple, but have yet to find it. So I guess we'll just have to see." With that, she grabbed a few personnel effects, shoving them into the small overnight bag she had brought with them. "Until tomorrow, have fun you two!"

Elaine watched her go and looked upward. "Why did we need all this stuff again?"

"To make you into the type of lady he wants."

"Why am I doing this again?"

"You're the type of lady he wants."

"What's your role again?"

"Escort. The service didn't want anything bad to happen, so I get to go in and watch."

Elaine looked back at him. "If he's ugly, I'm going to have to hurt you."

"Understood."

* * *

There were at least three dresses for her to change into and out during the day. Most of them were a shade of red that went well with her, and the dinner dress for being shown off was the one that got the "Jessica Rabbit Seal of Approval" from Celeste before she was once more tossed back to searching for clues about the missing girls.

The plan, as it started out, was surprisingly simple: Elaine was to go as the escort girl for Carruthers and do most of the surveying, or at least keeping attention on herself. Napoleon would be there as a body guard of sort, to protect the Agency's girl as well as the client from anything that could happen. Illya was the driver of the limo with Celeste as a friend who seemed interested in joining the Agency and wanted to see how it worked, though most of her night would be in the limo as it had been decided she wasn't ready to 'play lady' just yet and needed some more training or actually to enroll. She and Illya would monitor the outside while Napoleon and Elaine stayed on the inside.

"What was the third girl's birthday again?" Celeste asked as they waited for Elaine and Napoleon to come out from the tailor shop.

"June 2nd."

"And the fourth's?"

"July 14th."

Celeste suddenly paused and lifted up her head. "Illya, tell me all the birthdays, starting with the first's."

Celeste waited, then checked a book she had titled The Little Giant Encyclopedia of Fortune Telling.

"Why did you bring that, anyway?" Illya asked as he sat up front.

"I had a hunch," she told him, then smiled brightly. "I was right!"

"What?"

"The girls are taken according to their astrological sign. The first was an Aries, the next a Taurus, the third a Gemini, the fourth a Cancer, the last one was a Leo, the fifth sign of the Zodiac. If I had my computer I could come up with a birth chart for them and--." There was another pause as Illya double-checked something then said, "They do have a birth chart. All of them got one a few days before each party from a woman named," more paper shuffling, "Madam Clara du Serenitus."

"What a name...according to this she's the expert, or at least the one that all rich people go to when they get the superstition bug."

The two started to go through the guest list, then visibly deflated. Madam Serenitus never attended any of the gatherings, it seemed.

"But we will have to question her," Celeste pointed out, "so maybe she'll be able to help us out with what each of the women had in their past or futures."

Illya nodded, then directed her to where Napoleon and Elaine were coming out.

"HOLY--."

"Language."

Celeste put a hand over her mouth and mumbled the rest at the sight of Napoleon in his best tuxedo and Elaine in her first dress, a red one that was, like the rest, made to have attention focus on her and to show that she was a lovely lady.

The door opened and Elaine stepped inside. "What?"

Celeste tried to think of something, said finally said, "Can we keep the dress? You'd turn heads back home, Elaine, and in an _Exorcist _type of way!"

"Is that good?"

"Yes. Or no, depending on the person."

Napoleon smiled then nodded. "Well. Let's not keep him waiting too much longer."

* * *

Alistair S. Carruthers was a man who had not done much in life but was already further along then most people of his age. His great-grandfather's business had boomed quickly, making it possible for his father and then himself to live comfortably. He was a graduate and was going to work in the firm after his thirtieth birthday: his father gave him the rest of that time to play, find a girl, and think about what he would do after that time. So at the age of twenty-five, he was ready to keep up life as it was with parties and red-haired women and social life.

But then the kidnappings had occurred, and while he and his father had done what they could to keep it quiet and make it appear as if nothing was going on, word had gotten round. This party, if not done right, would be the dullest he could ever have.

He didn't want that. Summer was one of the best times to have parties, and for them to just go away because a few girls had gone off elsewhere?

He checked his watch as the butler came in, announcing the arrival of Mr. Solo from the Agency and the girl for the night, named Elaine. Alistair waved, allowing them in and turning his back, hoping the Agency got it right this time. If he had to require and put in another request about the type of girl he wanted, he wasn't about to go to them again.

"Mr. Carruthers?" The male voice made him turn and frown. Where was the girl?

"Mr...Solo, I presume? I hope you did not come alone. If I were so inclined, I would have specified it."

Mr. Solo gave a tight grin at the joke. "No, sir, I am here to ensure the safety of our employee. Because of what has been happening, only one recent transfer to New York has been available, and we've kept her alone to allow her to have no bias towards the, ah, happenings of late."

"I see."

"But because of it as well, I will be staying nearby at all times. I do not want her to be in any danger, and while I know that the girls who disappeared were not full acquaintances of yours, they did disappear here. That makes my employer nervous about sending a girl here, but you are a good customer, better then some. Which is why we wish to keep you on as one, and which is why, for your protection and hers, I am here."

Alistair bit back a retort to the audacity of the man, then nodded. "Very well. Do what you must to ensure her safety, and mine. I have fine body guards and men, they do well."

Solo gave a small nod then walked to the door, saying, "Come in, Elaine. He's waiting."

Almost shyly, the woman walked in and Alistair felt his breath catch as she did, looking up at him with confident eyes before giving a small curtsy towards him. "Mr. Carruthers. A pleasure. I am Elaine."

Alistair recovered enough to return the bow and take one of her hands, kissing it briefly. "So I see."

She was perfect. The perfect one, the angelic and physical reality of his want, and he smiled as he realized she was all his for that night. Her hair was a light red, like the point nearest the white-heat of a fire, and curled elegantly to frame her face and cascade down her shoulders. A warm rose-colored dress with long shoulder straps helped to show off her pale, moon-glow skin and lead down to her wonderfully rich bosom. The dress accented the curves that were neither so skinny he wondered if she would eat nor too large to tell him she would eat and overeat. A shapely leg was barely visible near the end of it, her height added to by small, elegant two-inch heels.

"Does she meet the standards, Mr. Carruthers?" Solo's voice cut in, causing Alistair to glare at him then look back into the eyes of the lovely artwork before him. Green-blue eyes looked back, a small tint of hazel making them even more lovely.

"Yes. In fact, she is perfect."

* * *

"Must _I _be the one to listen to this sap?" Celeste said with a scowl as she looked back over at where Illya sat, reading through the papers they had on the missing girls and the newest paper on Madam Serenitus.

"It was your turn."

"You wouldn't believe this guy. He's coming close to quoting Shakespeare at her, if he hasn't somehow already."

"Are you jealous?"

"Of Elaine? No. I wouldn't last two minutes with that much mushy goodness in the room."

Illya looked over then asked simply, "So, why are you complaining? It was your turn to listen in and ensure they are fine, it is mine to search for clues. Do you think he would try something with Napoleon in the room?"

"Other then grabbing her--."

"Celeste..."

"No, I don't. But I don't like sap."

"Why?"

"Why? Why don't I like sap? Because it's sap! Because it's false sweetness that usually involves flowers, sugar and false-pretenses about how a person is. What's the point of getting to know a person if they drudge up this sugar-coated version of how they want to f--."

"Celeste," Illya's voice was calming, "some people need it. I believe Elaine will be fine."

"I hope he tries something and gives Napoleon a reason to shoot him," Celeste muttered before turning back around and staying silent. Illya frowned at her. While she did seem to be forward with what she could want, she didn't enjoy what many other women would. Why?

He went back to reading his notes and figuring out the missing girls before he took his chance with Celeste.

* * *

Elaine stretched as she sat on the large bed she had been given during her stay, along with the huge room that one usually saw on movies that involved people striking it rich and getting to go into the Ritzy hotels suddenly. Silk sheets whispered smoothly against her dress as she wiggled her toes, now free of the heels, and thought about what she had learned.

One: Carruthers was very handsome. Not as handsome as Napoleon, and obviously worked hard to maintain the handsome nature, but his hair was duller then Napoleon's, his eyes a normal brown color instead of the hazel-brown mixture that Napoleon's could be, and while he was just as tall as Napoleon and dressed in more expensive suits, and even had that "decadent air", as Illya called it, that Napoleon had, Napoleon carried himself and made himself larger then him in so many ways.

But at least the guy was cute.

Two: He thought the girls had run off somewhere and were playing a trick, one that he didn't like because it ruined his social status. The idea of them being in danger or hurt didn't cross his mind, and if it did only in how it would affect his parties later on. He had made mention of them only because he wished to explain why she wouldn't be at a party that was as "nice and lively" as the others. So even if he did know what happened to them, he was carrying on in such a way that made her suspect he didn't know where they were and probably was innocent of anything that happened.

Three: The man couldn't act his way out of a wet paper bag with a Sherpa guide. He knew stuff, he was interesting in that way and he had a degree, but if he was hiding something he probably would've shown it to her already.

With a contented sigh, Elaine leaned back onto the bed. Two pieces of what could be considered man-candy were before her...one was richer then the other, to be sure, but the other was far sweeter and better for her.

_I don't want you to go where that was taking me,_ she told her mind firmly, _stop and go along another track._

She had gone on a tour of the house, and no secret passages, places, or hideouts had been found. Napoleon had been there too and had not signaled or said anything, but considering how close Carruthers kept her, she probably couldn't have noticed him being kidnapped.

_Out of those thoughts, now. No need for depression._

She was pretty sure that Celeste had heard at least some of the sap that had been going on and wondered how she would deal with it. While Celeste was warm-blooded and enjoyed decent romance movies, mainly the older ones, she was a sucker for some sap but hadn't been recently. Of course, Elaine knew the reason why, just as she knew the reason that Celeste had popped up with a car half-loaded with things and taken her away from Texas after they had both gotten out of the Navy, Elaine having to stay longer to deal with the lease and some of her things being sent home.

_At least I'm not the only one unlucky in love, but damn!_

A knock on the door stopped that thought and she sat up, saying simply, "Come in," before turning to see it open and reveal Napoleon.

"How are you, Elaine?" he asked sweetly as he closed the door, his guise as Mr. Solo, Agency man still in place.

As the door closed firmly, she frowned. "You can stop the act, Napoleon. I'm fine, though, thanks for asking. Any word from the duo outside?"

Napoleon nodded, moving over to sit in a chair by the desk. "Illya wants to check on the astrological lady, and Celeste wants to join but first needs to run back to Headquarters for something. I walked out to tell them we were staying and would call when they were needed, to make it appear official for them leaving. Do you know what it is? She wouldn't tell either of us."

Elaine paused in thought then nodded. "Probably her Tarot cards. We both do readings, but Celeste's larger into that whole thing and pulls out slightly truer cards then I do. She probably wants to use them to convince the Madam that they need the information."

Napoleon made a small face at the mention. "Tarot cards?"

Elaine noticed that she had once more become the subject of a small smile, this one subtly amused, and she glared at Napoleon. "What's so funny? Celeste and I both believe that sometimes there are things that facts can't explain, and the cards help tap your intuitive subconscious." The smile widened slightly, and Elaine sighed. "You're probably expecting me to tell you next that I sleep with a tinfoil hat on to keep the alien mind control waves out. I would have you know that my father does that, not me. My hair's bad enough." This at least provoked a low laugh, and Elaine could not help a triumphant grin. "So, how am I doing so far?"

"I don't think you'd be able to get this guy away from you without a crowbar or a blowtorch," Napoleon replied, considering the doll-like figure perched just beyond his reach. "What did I say? Once we got rid of the rough edges, you were just like a jewel waiting to be shown off." A gentle ripple of fabric caught his gaze - the hem of Elaine's gown fluttering as she kicked her feet in a languid gesture of boredom, occasionally offering the glimpse of her well-toned legs beyond the fabric. "He's hooked, just like any warm-blooded man should be."

Elaine's grin turned devious as she heard this last phrase. "And you, Mr. Solo?" she asked, letting her voice dip into the smoky, sultry tones she'd used earlier. "Are you jealous?"

This brought a sudden wince across his strong features that Napoleon quickly concealed with an assured smile. "It's not my job to be jealous, Elaine. Besides, we all know that I could never afford a 'lady' of your caliber." In spite of his facade of smug disinterest, he could not stop himself from looking over every detail of the young woman's appearance and marveling at the change that had transpired. _This is the girl that drinks like a fish, hits like a lumberjack, and swears like a... well, like a sailor... and look at her now! If we weren't on a mission, I'm not sure how I'd handle this._

"You look conflicted, Mr. Solo." She reached a hand up to flick a stray strand of hair back over her shoulder, looking him fearlessly in the eye as she did. "Is something wrong?"

_If this were any other situation, I'd take that as an invitation and she knows it. _"No, Elaine, I'm fine. You should probably start getting ready for dinner now. I'll wait outside until you're decent."

* * *

Napoleon closed the door and turned in time to see Carruthers walk up, a frown now on his face.

"Mr. Carruthers," Napoleon said with a nod, "She is currently changing for dinner."

"I see," he said with a slightly clenched jaw before asking, "Mr. Solo, what is your job in the Agency?"

Napoleon knew where this was going, but straightened like a man of his job who was about to be addressed by a superior. "My job is their protection and well-being, sir. I assure you, nothing inappropriate happened. You only have to say a word and I would be penalized for it, possibly even lose my job. As I enjoy protecting and escorting women who would much rather tend to men like yourself then me--."

"Enough prattle, Mr. Solo," Carruthers said dismissively with a wave of his hand, "I understand your point: you are not in a position to take advantage of the situation."

Napoleon added, "There's...another thing."

"Oh?"

"I...dislike...red-heads. A personal choice, of course, but I simply do not like them. Every other color, I can accept, but not red-heads. One of the many reasons why I am chosen to work with them."

Carruthers looked extremely cocky at that point. "Well then, I shall do what I can to ensure you and she are not alone for too long together. Until dinner, Mr. Solo."

Knowing a dismissal when he had one, Napoleon bowed and left for his own room, hoping Illya and Celeste would find something quickly so they could get out of here.


	3. Act 3: Major and Minor Arcana

_Act 3: "Major and Minor Arcana"_

Celeste looked over at the sign while Illya sighed, wondering why he got the jobs involving gypsies and fake-fortune tellers. He supposed it was because he had spent time around the gypsies that he would know some of their tricks, and at least how to be accepted among them.

Celeste held the box in one hand, the sign that it was the Rider Tarot Deck on the box that she had bought it in. The box itself obviously had been in various places and uses extensively to hold the cards, and beforehand she had opened it up and looked through them before putting them back and staying silent, though Illya couldn't tell if it was because she had nothing to say or because she was mentally preparing herself.

"I'm amazed it's still open," Illya muttered as they walked up, Celeste ringing the bell.

"It's a reading place. They're open as long as they can get a customer," Celeste pointed out, "and if not, as long as the door is open you're cool."

Illya grimaced as they walked in, seeing the decor that was common of most places such as this: drapes, comfortable chairs, a covered, empty table top, and various pictures of mystic things. Illya walked over to look at the picture of a man holding a serpent as he spotted, out of the corner of his eye, Madam Clara du Serenitus walk out and smile at Celeste.

"Ah, you must be the girl who called earlier...Celeste, wasn't it?" she spoke with a slight accent that made Celeste's name sound more connected to the stars then it probably should be.

"That's me, yes. You're Madam Serenitus?" Celeste smiled as she shook the older woman's hand. "Pleased to meet you."

"Of course. You said you wanted me to see how your Tarot reading would be?"

"I wanted to try it on someone like you," she said with a good amount of false modesty. "If I'm right, then my friend," she motioned to Illya, who looked over, "will give me some money to try it part-time. He's very rude about it."

"I have a reason to be," Illya told the Madam seriously, "I don't trust such things."

"Oh, there are far greater things in life, sir, then just what you see. Very well, I'd love to be part of this experiment! Please, let me see how you do."

Celeste smiled broadly as Illya got another chair so he could sit nearby and the two sat at the vacant table. Celeste took out her own Tarot deck and quickly spread them out. "Alright, pick a card."

Illya smirked as the Madam looked at them. "You sound like a card shark."

"You be quiet," Celeste told him with a small glare as the Madam smiled and then picked one from a cluster, placing it on the table away from the rest. Celeste pulled them all together then turned over the card before turning it to face the Madam.

"The High Priestess...That's a good one for you," Celeste said with a smile as she handed over the deck. "Go ahead and shuffle, think of your problem as you do."

"You're doing a Celtic Cross?" the Madam asked as she shuffled.

"I like that one," Celeste said, "Plus, I've never gotten the same results from the others. That one is my best."

"Ah. Well then," the shuffling done, she placed the deck on the table.

"Cut it three times."  
With another smile, she did so, Illya watching for missing cards or any tricks before Celeste took them back and put the first one down on top of the High Priestess.

"Your problem..." she looked at the card marked with a "V" on the top, and a picture of a person holding three swords before vanquished foes, two still in the ground. Celeste blinked then said, "Five of Swords. Something unfinished, a problem of sorts. You thought it was over but it isn't."

The next card was placed horizontally over the other two. "This holds that problem in...the Seven of Wands. Repelling foes but also standing alone."

She drew another and put it below the group. "Five of Cups...you find your plans are in ruins, or at least some of them are, but enough is left to rebuild."

Illya watched Madam as she paled while Celeste drew another card, placing it to the right of the first three cards. "The Knight of Cups, a man bearing news that can become anything for you, good news or ill. A Knight with the Elixir of Life."

Another card, this time above the main three cards. "The Ace of Swords, reversed. The sword on a string is over your head, and you're not sure how to handle it, if you know it's there."

Another card, this time to the side and with the frown growing. "Eight of Swords, a woman bound and unsure of where others are in this. Your problems are only just starting unless you find others to wield those swords for you, or a way to free yourself and wield them."

In rapid succession, Celeste placed four cards down along a line from nearest to the Madam to closer to her. A small smile played on her lips. "What are you so afraid of, madam?"

The Madam looked at her suddenly but said nothing. Celeste sighed then turned the first card over.

"Friends and family...see this as the Wheel of Fortune, a turning point in everyone's lives, the focal point of everything, the great thing."

The second card was turned over, Illya looking around as if bored while Madam and Celeste were more interested in the outcome of the cards.

"Three of Wands, reversed. You think you have the world and your travels, but you don't."

The second to last card was turned over, and Celeste frowned. "The World. You hope all that you have worked for will come to light, and that it will be the final piece of this puzzle. But..." she turned the last card and sighed. "You're being led around by the nose, Madam. I think you should stop whatever you're doing."

Illya straightened at the pronouncement as Madam shook her head. "I can't. You see, can't you?"

"Of course, but that doesn't change the outcome. The noose can easily be undone."

Illya turned to see the Madam shaking her head furiously. "Leave, now!"

It was almost too quiet to hear over the Madam's sudden hysterics, but he heard it anyway. Illya turned quickly as a knife went for his shoulder, twisting so that it missed and he grabbed the arm, wrenching it so the attacker let go of the knife and it dropped to the floor.

"Illya!"

"Sam!"

Illya saw Celeste starting to move forward as Sam broke free to fight him, only to be stopped by Madam Serenitus. Celeste whirled and sent up a high kick that was blocked as Sam came after Illya.

"Bitch, let me go!" Celeste yelled as she fought to get loose of Madam's grip as Illya dodged and punched at Sam. The man was about as tall as Napoleon, and looked a good deal like Carruthers did, only he had a small scar on his cheek and a determined look in his eye, plus was dressed in faded levis and a shirt that was obviously second-hand.

_Perhaps a relation_, Illya thought as he tackled the man to the ground, hearing Celeste continuing to fight with Madam Serenitus. The two had started to go after the knife now and as he pinned Sam to the ground, he heard Madam say, "Get off of him, now!"

Illya looked over and blinked, seeing Celeste held on the ground, a knee in her back and a hand holding one arm twisted on it as well. Her other arm appeared to be pinned beneath her body. Blood came from a cut on her leg, though from where he was he couldn't tell how serious the cut could be. She looked up at him with some surprise and fear, but otherwise seemed fine.

The knife was placed at her shoulder as Madam glared at him. "Now!"

Knowing the threat when he saw it, Illya reluctantly stood up and off of Sam, who scrambled up and brushed himself off. "Who are they, Clara?"

"They know, Sam," she told him, "I know it. They have to be put downstairs."

He nodded. "Fine. What's her--."

"No," Clara was clear, the knife not wavering as she looked over at him, "She was able to tell with a Tarot deck. They don't go in with the others. Plus, they're not from that world. We'll keep them here until everything's changed, so they can see it themselves."

Sam looked down at Celeste then nodded. "Fine. You take her down. I got the blond." He turned to Illya and walked forward a little before hitting him with a cross that sent the whole world into darkness as Celeste yelled for him.

* * *

Closing the door behind them, Sam looked over at Clara before asking, "Why hold her? That's one less person we have to worry about!"

"The socialites are talking, yes, but they will still go to Carruther's party, and it's important that we get _these _girls. Their background is as important as their birthdate and the position in the sky. We don't know hers, or his," Clara sighed and took Sam's hands in her own. "You were the one who found this ritual, my love, and I who helped find the girls. Why do you want to change it now?"

"I panicked," he told her softly, moving to kiss her then back. "Tonight. We have to get the rest tonight. They're all at the party, and afterwards we can get Carruther."

She smiled back at him. "Perfect."

* * *

_He... doesn't like redheads?_ Elaine froze when she heard these words, having paused in her preparations to press her ear against the door and listen to the conversation beyond.

_How could he..._

Sniffing disdainfully, she turned away from her listening and went back to the wardrobe where her clothes had been laid out for the evening's events.

"Doesn't like redheads, huh? Well, we'll just make him regret those words, won't we?" Elaine exchanged the rose-hued finery of earlier for a simple, understated cocktail sheath – strapless, midnight-blue and spangled lightly with silver as if one viewed the stars. Her hair required little change save for a quick brushing and fresh application of hairspray, and after a quick spritz of perfume she was ready to make her next appearance.

She was none too soon, though, as a light tapping sounded on the bedroom door. "Dinner will be served shortly, miss," Elaine heard the butler say from the hall outside, "and your presence is requested at your earliest convenience."

"I'll be right there." She glanced in the mirror to make sure that nothing was out of place, then crossed to the door. _Remember your role_, she told herself. _You're no ordinary lady of the night – you're a hooker with class and a high-end price tag. None of these people could afford you...  
_Head held high, Elaine opened the door and gave a quiet smile in thanks to the butler, who nodded acknowledgment. "Mr. Carruthers is receiving his guests in the drawing room, and light refreshment is being served as well. He wishes you to meet him there – I'll show you the way, if you would please follow me."

The security staff and other hired help had been given time to dine before the first of the guests had arrived, and after eating a light meal in the kitchen with Carruthers' three paid muscleheads Napoleon made his way to the drawing room and assumed an unobtrusive post not far from the door. Visitors began to trickle in shortly afterwards, followed by their host who began to circulate through the assembled luminaries with the ease of a master entertainer. If he were responsible for the disappearances of several young women he showed no sign of it, and Napoleon noted with a frown that Elaine was nowhere to be seen.

His worries were soon quelled, though, as a faint stir at the drawing room door announced yet another arrival. Astonished gasps and whispers shot through the crowd in seismic ripples, groups moving to the side as a lone figure moved among them, offering the occasional nod or murmured greeting as she passed, glacially immune to the jealous stares of the women and intense interest from their male counterparts.

Elaine's gaze fell on Napoleon for the barest fraction of a second, then glided on by as if he were an article of furniture or something equally insignificant.

"Who is she?" hissed one matron to another, getting a puzzled shrug in return. "Another one of his hired floozies, I'd bet."

Elaine gave no sign that she'd heard this remark or any of the others that flicked through the assembled like flies, instead allowing a radiant smile as Alistair turned to look at her.

He blinked once, twice, then remembered where he was and crossed to greet his escort with a decorous kiss on her offered hand. He held out his arm for her, and Elaine accepted it with an inward cheer.

_Like putty in my hands_, she exulted, gazing out over the other guests as if daring them to comment. "Now that everyone is here," Alistair said, "please join us for dinner in the atrium."

* * *

Tables had been set to accommodate the fifty partygoers among the plants of the atrium, each grouping no larger than five to promote ease of conversation. Lighting was provided by paper lanterns that had been strung throughout the foliage as well as a tasteful arrangement of candles at each table, and it was in this luminescent glow that Alistair Carruthers found himself speechless once more at the escort that had been provided him. _She is perfect – no less celestial than if she'd fallen from the heavens – I would hesitate at calling her a goddess, but what else is there to say?_

From time to time he looked around to make sure that all went well, and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the guests seemed to enjoy themselves and the lush setting provided. His bodyguards maintained an attitude of almost predatory vigilance at the edges of the room, and the man from the Agency – _what was his name again – Solo?_ –gazed out over the guests with a carefully unreadable expression that made Carruthers slightly nervous. _No matter how trustworthy he says he is, there's still something not quite right about him. But Elaine doesn't seem to mind, so I'll leave it be for now._

Alistair brought his attention back to the muted conversation at his own table, where Elaine was answering none-too-delicate inquiries posed to her by the three other guests seated there. "And where did you say you were from again, Miss – ah - "  
"You may call me Elaine, sir." Elaine smiled gently at the elderly gentleman that had asked her this question. "I am one of Alistair's personal acquaintances, and we shall leave it at that."

"Considering the risk of further embarrassment, that is a wise idea." The speaker, a silver-haired bespectacled battleax of a female, pushed her glasses up from where they'd settled near the tip of her nose and narrowed her eyes at the shapely younger woman. Alistair bit back a sharp retort and prayed that Elaine would do the same. "Come to think of it, Elaine," a heavy dose of venom turned what Alistair thought to be a lyrical name into something decidedly sour, "what did you say your occupation was? I'm afraid I must have missed it."

Alistair's heart sank when he heard this pointed question, barbed like a harpoon with the capability to wound severely if not handled properly. He forced his features to be calm, wondering just what Elaine would have to say to this. "Oh, you missed nothing," the redhead replied, a sweet smile lighting her face. "You see, I am a kept woman – much as you are."

The matron sniffed disdainfully and muttered something under her breath that her host chose not to take personally. "Unless, of course, you have earned those diamonds you wear by selling daisies on the street corner, or something of a similar nature." This last brought a gasp from her target and a carefully-muted snicker from the fourth guest at-table, a middle-aged woman whom Alistair had long suspected of having designs on his family's wealth. "If I may bring joy to the lives of others by my simple presence..." Carruthers found himself the object of a meltingly warm gaze from Elaine to which he could only smile sheepishly in return. "Then I find contentment in doing so. The pay is secondary."

After a substantial silence, the conversation at the table then turned to more trivial matters that Alistair found easy to maintain with simple replies; he instead found himself absorbed in consideration of his radiant companion and even briefly pondered more permanent arrangements. _How much would I have to pay to convince them to let her go? No matter her background, she would bring elegance back to my family along with wit and grace that are simply hard to find these days. _

Dinner drew to a close without incident, and Alistair gently steered his guests outside to where a pavilion had been set up for dancing and further socializing. Elaine excused herself at this point, and even though she assured him she would be back shortly he felt her absence as keenly as a wound. He politely waved off invitations to dance from many of the female guests while waiting for her return, seeing their thinly-disguised hurt at such rebuffs but at the same time truly not caring. _If such an angel had landed in their midst, I'm sure they would do everything to protect it – much as I would. The others before her were merely an illusion. I must possess her, even if it means the end of me.

* * *

_

Elaine did not need paranoia – a habit ingrained into her like a sixth sense due to her military career – to get the feeling that someone was tailing her as she went inside and returned to her room to change. It was only when she spotted the familiar countenance in one of the many mirrors scattered throughout the house that she sighed and rolled her eyes at the man's persistence in his role. "I am quite safe, Mr. Solo," she said without looking back. "Please feel free to return outside and enjoy the party."  
"I would, but your safety is my primary concern." The cold casualness of the words caused something in her core to freeze, and it took most of her conditioning not to frown at this. "I take it our host is being more than courteous to you."  
"A perfect gentleman," she replied with much the same biting sweetness she'd used earlier. They'd since reached the door to her room and she now stepped inside, closing the door quickly before she could be followed in. "Allow me some privacy to change. I'll be along in just a moment."

She ignored the response from outside and selected the last item from the wardrobe, the dangerously-cut dark red number that had earned comparison to certain sultry fictional characters. It took a matter of moments to change, and Elaine could not help a vampish pose as she checked herself over in the dressing-table mirror. "You have charm, Solo..." she muttered, adjusting her neckline, "but I have cleavage. I believe I shall be the victor in this situation."

* * *

Celeste grimaced and pushed herself back down to the bottom of the cage they had been put into, cursing her luck. It was small for two people, giving them just enough room to lay down side-by-side, which they were currently doing as she waited for Illya to wake up. He had been relieved of his coat and, consequently, his communicator, as well as his belt and shoes. Probably to make it harder to get out, but knowing Illya he had something else in one of his pockets or...somewhere.

_Body searches while unconscious isn't good, Celeste. Plus he could attack you for it._

A moan brought her attention to the fact that Illya was now waking up and she looked over at him as he opened his eyes slowly, looking up at her.

"How's your jaw?"

He moved it a little, the bruise already starting to show as he sat up and she moved to allow it while he rubbed the back of his head. "Sore. I take it he was less then gentle while bringing me down here?"

"I guess. I was blindfolded at the time, and gagged, so sorry." She motioned to her bound leg, "but the cloths helped stop that from leaking too much."

Illya frowned and moved to touch her leg, surprisingly gentle as he untied the makeshift bandage and looked at the wound. "It's not too deep, but it's bad enough to make it hurt?"

"Like hell, and I think it cut something important. I haven't been able to stand up for very long or without assistance. Oh, on a good note," she pointed as Illya rewrapped the bandage and he looked in the direction, "we found the missing girls."

In five separate cages that hung in a circle were five unconscious girls in evening dresses, below them a grouping of astrological symbols that he couldn't entirely make out. "I guess you were right about their signs."

Celeste shifted as she said, "But there's something different. Most astrology has 12 signs...this circle has 13, and it starts with Pisces, not Aries."

He looked down at the first symbol under the first missing girl and blinked at the sign before asking, "Please help me with this. I'm afraid I'm not very large on astrology."

"The Zodiac, which is the basis, is based on the twelve constellations that the sun passes through in a year. But, if you follow astronomy, you'll know that there is one more, a 13th sign that is usually left out," she explained, "called _The Serpent Bearer_, O-something..."

"Ophulicus," he said, looking down at one of the symbols then pointing. "Is that his?"

She moved and sat back down, holding her leg before nodding. "Yeah, I guess. It's not the one that's supposed to be after Scorpio, I know that much."

"Very good, my dear," the voice of Madam Serenitus made them turn as she smiled at them. "I knew you were strong, but I didn't realize how strong. That you would figure this out so quickly, that you could pull those cards...I have looked for such a strong person for a while, and now I have you."

Illya found himself between Serenitus and Celeste, which he hoped would help. "Why are you doing this?"

"For Sam, and to destroy this system, to create a new one," she gestured at the circle. "My ancestors created this and were going to create a new order during the Civil War, but the riots caused them to lose their offerings, and have the head priest be killed. The book was lost until Sam found it, and brought it to me. Now we will have our revenge."

"On high society? Other then being excessively rich and rather rude, what have they done to you?" Celeste asked.

"It's not me, it's Sam. His father is William Carruthers, the father. His mother, a maid at the time, was raped, and when she tried to come forward he blacklisted her from working and made her shamed. He took her innocence from her, and gave her Sam, who is the elder son, who should be at that house, inheriting his birthright! But instead he is here, with me, and we will destroy them for it. How many others, do you think, are there? Bastards not allowed in because of their corrupt fathers?"

"As noble as the cause can be," Illya said, "what do you intend to do? Kill those poor girls?"

"Of course. We need their blood, but we also need that of the younger son."

"You're going to kidnap Carruthers too?" Celeste blinked. "This can't end well. I use tarot cards, true, but only a little, and I shouldn't do it too much."

Serenitus looked at her. "Why? Why shouldn't you? You're power is strong! You could be--."

"Stuff like this calls the attention of demons!" Celeste told her swiftly, pointing at the circle. "Not angels, not gods, but demons! You keep this up you could find yourself attacked, or worse! What if you don't get a new world order but chaos instead? You can't tread into this type of magic so lightly!"

Serenitus blinked, obviously taken aback by the verbal attack, then shook her head. "You're wrong. This _will _work. And you both shall see it come to fruition. A new world order, where society doesn't need them," she glared at the girls, "where the truth is known. Soon now...everyone else will be here soon."


	4. Act 4: Black Magic Woman

_Act 4: "Black Magic Woman"_

Elaine was pretty sure that, had it not been for manners, Carruthers' tongue would be hanging out or he would have taken her to a back room already. She was quite sure his eyes were not on her face as it was, but that was the point of this, wasn't it?

The music was slow and many couples were close, but she and Carruthers were closer, her body touching his in many spots that were probably not completely acceptable to some people.

The eyes burning holes in the back of her head more then likely belong to Napoleon and he was the main one it wasn't acceptable to, she had to guess, but as it had been his idea for her and as she had been chosen for this job, she could have a little fun, couldn't she?

"You seem distracted," Carruthers' voice caught her by surprise and she looked up at him, smiling sweetly.

"Only thinking of the music, and the eyes on us," she felt herself blush, "I'm new to the business. I'm not used to such things yet."

He gave her a small smile. "You didn't seem so shy earlier."

Remembering the matron and her own cutting remarks, Elaine looked to the side and then back again. "I know how to take care of myself, Mr. Carruthers--."

"Please, Alistair."

"Alistar...I know how to handle such situations. This one I have trouble getting used to."

His eyes shown with adoration as he told her quietly, "You don't have to worry about it. For all I care, it is just the two of us. And it can be again, for longer, if you don't mind."

She looked up at him, surprised as he said, "Your man doesn't need to stay much longer, and you can stay for the night, if you'd like. I promise no harm, and if it's a question of money--."

"It's...not that. As far as I know."

At this point, Elaine was conflicted, worried about what she should do. Her paranoia told her to leave before this man _did _turn out to be like that guy Celeste was worried about. Another part of her wondered if Napoleon would allow such a thing to pass, or if he would steal his way back in just to make sure she was fine.

The rest of her was telling her that she should get some from this man and to hell with Napoleon and paranoia. This man was fine, rich, and from the looks of things obviously wanted her. The small glares from other ladies in the room had told her that he had chosen not to dance until she had come down and stunned even more people with her outfit.

_Would Napoleon do such a thing? You've heard from the girls he's a flirt, has probably dated or slept with most of them, and even more if you count the various Innocents he runs into and goes out with after almost EVERY mission! You were an idiot to tell that THRUSH bitch he was yours. He isn't even hers!_

The thought both comforted and worried Elaine. Damn it, she didn't need to moon over Napoleon! Not when this guy was so obviously adored her just by looking at her.

_And_, that idiotic, cynical voice of reason cut in, _he loves you as the expensive call-girl you are. He doesn't know you, your talents or your loves. He doesn't want to help you through the year you'll spend here, and should he decide to keep you? Will you be able to tell him you're displaced almost five decades? Will you be able to tell him about Celeste, about UNCLE, the fact that your life is in the computer that only works in that room? What if he doesn't let you go?_

"Elaine?"

An explosion from the doorway saved her the trouble of answering as everyone screamed in terror while ducking from the debris that came in as well. Napoleon had gone to one side of the room and started to pull the gun when one of the servers pulled his own and had it behind Napoleon's head.

Elaine looked over as many more of the caterers pulled similar guns and in walked a small group of men, hooded like the Grim Reaper with concealed faces as they looked around at the terrified guests.

"Get the girls," one of them told the others. With that order, the men walked into the crowd, forcibly removing eight of the women there and backed out with them. The man looked around then pointed at Carruthers. "You too, Carruthers."

Elaine forced back the will to curse or stand in front of him, but another instinct won out and instead she wrapped her arms protectively around him, holding him close to her.

The man walked up and calmly pulled her off of Carruthers, backhanding her and sending her to the floor. Elaine saw Carruthers go to hit the man but instead get gut-punched for his trouble while Napoleon moved, hands up, to help Elaine.

The man dragged Carruthers over to one of the returning men and shoved him forward. With that, he turned to the rest of the armed men. "Keep them here for ten minutes, then shoot them."

A few shouts, pleas and bribes rose from the crowd as Napoleon whispered to her. "UNCLE's on it's way, they'll be here in time to save us, at least."

"That's a comfort," she muttered back, rubbing her jaw, then noticing his own worried look. "What?"

"Illya and Celeste never checked back in after going to see that spiritual lady, and Illya's coat was found in a park a ways away."

Elaine held a breath, then let it out. "Our turn to save them again?"

"For me and Illya, it's more like 'still', but—" he gave a small shrug. "Okay?"

Elaine nodded. "He hits like a girl."

"You hit fairly well."

"I've been trained to. He hits like a sissy ten-year-old girl in pigtails."

Napoleon gave her a smile. "Good. That should make it easier to take care of them later."

* * *

Napoleon was not jealous, but worried and a little confused worked well for the fact that they didn't know where Illya and Celeste were, they were fairly sure that Madam Serenitus was behind it, and that Elaine seemed to have started to like Carruthers.

"I'd say slow down but I don't think I'd get through," Elaine said from the passenger seat as they headed towards the Madam's shop. She, too, was in a bad mood and he had to guess it was from the fact that her best friend was in danger again.

"No," he told her, "I probably wouldn't. Why are you angry with me?"

"WHAT?"

"You are. You wouldn't have acted that way if you weren't."

Elaine looked at him then blinked before giving him a sudden, strange smile. "In case you forgot, I was in Theater in school." The smile spread. "I can't believe I'm that good!"

"To make me think you liked how Carruthers was holding you? Or to make me think that you were not about to say 'mine' to that guy?"

He needed to have his head examined, and Elaine blinked before glaring at him. "Like you care, Mr. 'I don't like red-heads'!"

Silence came into the car before both of them let out surprised breaths and Napoleon told her, "I told him that because I knew he'd try to get me out of the way. I would rather make you mad and know I could watch over you then make him mad and have to worry about your health from behind a door. You're important...plus if I had done that and Celeste found out, she probably would have carried out an earlier threat."

"What threat?"

"The, ah...one where she castrates me."

Elaine coughed at that then added in, "I did that on instinct. He's nice, but he's not you. You're...sweet, and you know me for me. He just knows me for Elaine, Call-Girl, and I think he likes me more for that then anything else. Still...thanks."

Napoleon smiled. "Of course." He started to slow down about a block from the area. "Are you coming as well? I hate to see what happens to that dress of yours."

Elaine nodded as she got out of the car with him. "There are heroines in our movies who fight the evil undead in dresses like this. I think I'll channel one of them and kick some ass tonight. Shall we?"

With a nod in the direction and retrieving his gun from the compartment, the two headed to the shop.

* * *

The cages were full of the unconscious, wealthy girls and tied spread-eagle in the middle of it was Alistair Carruthers, gagged as well as he looked over to the cage containing Illya and Celeste. Illya was standing, trying to figure out the locks as the men seemed to pay them no notice while Celeste looked around on her own, as if hoping for something useful to be seen as well.

Illya's search ended as someone hit the cage, the stick close to his hand, and he drew back before sitting back down next to Celeste. "Nothing."

"Me neither. This is bad."

"Very. What did you mean by, earlier? Magic getting the attention of demons?"

"Something I heard from my dad," she told him, "that if you use it wrong, magic will get you all sorts of attention you don't want."

"And yet you still do it?"

"My curiosity gets the better of me, and I'm good at it. Like I told her, though, I don't do it enough that more of them will come looking for me."

Illya nodded then looked back at Carruthers, who looked up as his unknown half-brother, the hood down to show his face, and Madam Serenitus walked forward, a knife in their hands. Carruthers struggled and yelled against the gag as the two began to chant and Celeste shivered.

"I really don't think this is going to end in utopias."

There was the sound of cracking wood, causing the chanting to stop as the group of underlings headed over to investigate while Madam looked over at Celeste then walked over to her, pulling out her tarot cards and holding them up. "Tell me what's happening!"

"You--."

"Now, or the blond dies!"

Celeste reached between the bars and cautiously drew the top card of the deck, turning it to face her. Illya didn't look to see what it was as Madam Serenitus demanded, "What is it? What's the outcome?"

Celeste finally drew in a breath and said simply, "Ten of Swords."

Illya looked over at he saw the card, ten swords driven into a prone body, and Madam Serenitus' very pale face as she dropped the rest of the cards.

* * *

The two raced down the hidden corridor as a few of the robed men came up, Napoleon and Elaine fighting to keep them away as Napoleon found himself hard-pressed to draw his gun in such close quarters.

"You okay?" Napoleon asked when they had cleared the first group. Elaine nodded, shifting in the torn and now slightly-dirty evening gown, her hair a little out of order.

"I think I am channeling Alice."

"Wonderland?"

"Nope, different girl, but just as weird of a story, and went around in a nice dress like this too."

Further down the corridor opened up, allowing more of the hooded men to come up. Napoleon did what he could, as they were attacked too quickly for him to draw his gun, while he watched Elaine doing what she could to attack the men, utilizing their hoods, the rope belts they had, and some small parts of the wall that were around.

She moved a little further then he was until a few shots rang out and they were able to spot the main room. On the far side were Illya and Celeste, both of whom were grabbing at some of the men who had come by and were proceeding to beat them against the metal bars. In the center of the room were the thirteen missing girls, and in the center of that was Alistair Carruthers.

Napoleon hit the man who was grappling with him away and finally drew his gun, happy for the sleeping darts within as Elaine beat her way down to the main room and raced over to where Carruthers was, only to be attacked once more. She stumbled, doing what she could to beat the men away but also not fall on Carruthers as she did so, grabbing at rope belts and smocks and a chain one was trying to use against her to keep herself steady and to show that she was quite good at beating people up.

Elaine ducked as another shot rang out, a bullet nearly hitting Napoleon as he moved to a hiding spot and saw the leader who had hit Elaine earlier while getting Carruthers.

Napoleon shot but his shot was taken instead by a follower, then again. Cursing his luck, as it was sleep darts versus real lead, he hoped that something would come up.

"Give up! The card was for them, not us!" a woman's voice, probably Madam Serenitus, called from nearby. "The world will be changed for the better!"

* * *

Celeste poked Illya. "Help me make this swing."

Illya looked up then over before nodding, the two pushing against the cage as it swung on it's chain, heading closer and closer to the hidden Serenitus.

* * *

"You keep this shooting up, you'll hit one of the girls!" Napoleon yelled as Elaine grabbed one of the fallen men's knives and began to cut through the rope that held Carruthers. "I doubt you'd want that, huh?"

He noticed the swinging cage but didn't speak on it as another shot rang out, this one dangerously close to Elaine and Carruthers, if the hole in the floor and Elaine's yelp said anything.

"Don't shoot him! We need to complete the ritual!" the woman's voice continued from her spot before there was a sudden gasp and the man revealed himself, allowing Napoleon to hit him once. He went down heavily as Elaine continued to undo the ropes and Napoleon hurried over to where Illya and Celeste were, Illya holding the woman against the cage. "I thought you could need some help."

Napoleon smiled at him as he got out the keychain from the woman's belt loop. "Looks like you're both in need of help instead." He frowned upon seeing the slightly-bloody cloth wrapped around Celeste's leg, who looked down and shrugged. "I'll be fine. Now can we get out of here?"

Napoleon nodded, giving Illya the keys as he took the woman forward, Elaine having completed the job and now with extra rope. "Um, Elaine, if you could make sure she doesn't cause any trouble while reinforcements come in?"

Elaine nodded, Carruthers' helping to hold the angry but silent lady as Elaine tied her hands and sat her down in the middle of the circle. Illya had found the right key and was helping Celeste out as the voices of various UNCLE men came down, taking away the various members of the small cult.

* * *

The police and UNCLE agents quickly gathered the cult members and freed the unconscious girls, all of whom were not seriously harmed but had been drugged and would stay at the hospital for overnight observation. Celeste sat on the stairs, her leg having been checked out by a doctor and pronounced to be in need of stitches and for her to not get up and use it too much for a week or so.

Celeste sighed as she looked over to where Illya and Napoleon were making their report to some of the UNCLE agents, and soon all there was left was herself, those two, Elaine, and Carruthers, who stood in the middle of the circle as he looked at her with wonderment.

_I_, Celeste thought stiffly, _hate sap._

She could make out the various words being spoken by the man to Elaine as he said, "You...you're not who you say you are."

"Nope," Elaine told him, looking up, "I'm not even who you might think I am right now."

"I...well...that is..."

"If you want to say you're amazed I was able to pull off being a lady, you can. It's not like I was--."

"NO! No, that wasn't it at all. You make a fine lady, one of the best I've seen. You...you're perfect."

Had she been drinking anything, Celeste would've sprayed it at those words. _Lord have mercy, this can't be going anywhere good. Well, time for damage-control._

"Perfect?" Elaine nearly squeaked as Napoleon and Illya looked over, Napoleon favoring a slightly dark look. Neither noticed Celeste getting up.

"Yes. I saw you and believed in angels on this earth. I was amazed you could hold your own in wit, that you would be such a jewel, and now...now I see you are not just an angel, but an avenging angel. That you would come to rescue me..."

"I..."

Celeste had wandered into the men's field of vision, which meant that they would get over-protective and try to get her to sit down, but she wasn't about to do that just yet. With a final burst of energy and ignoring the pain, she made it forward and put her arms possessively around Elaine. "My love, you came for me!"

"Wha--."

Words were going to take too long and would be looked into. _Thus, a demonstration of our devotion to each other is needed._

Celeste turned Elaine enough and did what she called the 'Coupling Lady Defense: 4th Season Opener'. In case of men becoming creeps or overly-sappy like this guy, the other would make it appear they weren't interested.

Elaine let out a gasp as Celeste's lips met hers, and that was enough to put her tongue in and see how much she could get away with in the space of time it would take the boy's mind to try and decide if they were blessed, cursed, or remember that Celeste shouldn't be standing for any period of time unassisted.

Elaine seemed to remember the ruse, because she held onto Celeste tightly and actually played along for a second when Celeste broke free then looked over at Carruthers with a grin like a cat that had gotten it's free reign of the aviary and found the entrance to the rodent farm during the excursion.

"Oh, you were her mark this time, right? Pleased to meet you, you're kinda cute but not that much. I'm glad you're not hurt or anything, but we really have to go." For extra fun, she placed a hand on Elaine's back, dangerously close to her butt, and rubbed in small circles. "I have...things...to discuss with her. Well, it was nice, drive safe!"

Turning Elaine and leaning heavily on her, she said, loudly enough for Carruthers to hear, "Come, my lovely red-headed treat, I need to sit down in a car on the way back home."

Elaine cast her a glance then smiled sweetly and even kissed her on the cheek. "Of course, my snuggle-bunny."

_I will kill you slowly for that_ was the translation of that phrase, but Celeste wasn't about to be overdone. She was hurt and had lost some blood, not all of her brain was working at this point...always a good excuse later on.

"Ah, my smoochy-dove, you say such nice things, but weren't we not going to use such names in public?" _Stop now or you will be embarrassed for life._

"So we did," Elaine said with a smile that was translated to _Just try and see if you can walk out of here_. "But it's just us and the boys...what harm could be done with a few names?"

"They might get jealous of us, my sweet. After all, I'm sure they don't have anyone but themselves to play with tonight, and while I would enjoy filming such a thing--."

Illya walked over and said, "Which you won't."

"—I really would like to get out of here and to a hospital for stitches before I lose more blood and make a fool of us all. Can we?"

* * *

Waverly looked at the report critically as he read it then asked, "What, ah, was the 'unique technique' that Mr. Solo put here which helped convince Mr. Carruthers you were not available?"

Elaine, changed from the dress into less expensive attire, though her hair still showed some residual effects of the various products put into it, blushed. "I'd rather not say, sir. It's something she saw in a show once, and we've never tried it out."

"Well, it worked. I was hoping agents could use it later."

"Trust me, not many agents would be up for it...and those who are would probably need to talk to their partners first about it."

Waverly finally nodded then said, "Well, all is in order. Celeste should be allowed out of the Infirmary soon, but is on limited duty until the stitches come out and she is back in her previous physical shape. I understand her proficiency is using her legs to fight."

"A Brazilian style of fighting, sir, and yes," Elaine said, "Is that all, sir?"

"Hmm? Oh, you may keep the dresses as well. But that is all, thank you."

Elaine nodded and walked out of the room, running into Napoleon and Illya in the corridor.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, wondering about their presence.

"Just ensuring you were okay," Napoleon told her, "After all, you seem to have all the attention tonight."

Illya gave her the ghost of a smile as he added, "Thanks were in order, of course. Now, if you will excuse me, I must check up on Celeste. Apparently, she is not used to hospitals, and she will not be returning tonight as well." With that, he headed off in the direction of the elevator as Elaine blinked.

_What the hell—does he mean she's staying with him tonight?_

Elaine straightened and sighed, looking back at Napoleon. "Well, I'm fine for now. Thanks. Bye!"

She headed off, not wanting to think about how lucky Celeste could be and how much her love life, as always, sucked.

* * *

Napoleon stopped by the room to see Celeste sitting up with a pack of cards, learning how to play poker with Illya as the teacher before she sighed.

"I'm no good at this. I win at Roulette, not poker."

"What about Blackjack?" Napoleon asked as he entered. Celeste looked up and smiled slightly.

"I'm decent, depending. Hey, Napoleon. How's Elaine?"

Napoleon drew in a breath and said, "Well, that's the weird part. Illya mentioned that you weren't going to be there tonight and she looked a little hurt. Any clue what that was?"

Celeste looked at Illya then asked, "Did you mention I was stuck here for observation?"

"No. I assumed..."

Celeste fell back in her bed and sighed. "Great. She's probably drank the last of the beer and had better not have touched my vodka. That might call for serious reprimand. Oh well. She'll find out in the morning."

Napoleon heard the unspoken rest of that sentence. "And in the meantime?"

"You should go up and make sure she doesn't become too depressed. Bring beer, she'll enjoy it. Besides, she needs looking after and I'm stuck here. If I send Illya up, he won't cheer her up and he'll probably drink my vodka."

"Hey."

Napoleon smiled. "I take it that vodka's special?"

"It's expensive is what it is, and good, and I was going to share later on, but that's later on. For right now, just give her a shoulder to cry on. She needs it."

Napoleon nodded. "Can do. Anything else?"

"A few things," Celeste said with a small smile.

"And a word that you will hopefully not forget," Illya said, "It should also help her mood. Plus her favorite type of beer...I do not think she would appreciate anything else."

Napoleon nodded and listened to his new instructions.

* * *

"What did I do in my past lives to deserve this crap?" Elaine fumbled for her newest drink, one of a small forest of bottles on the end table next to the sofa, displacing a few of the empties before she found the one she was looking for. "I'd like to think I'm a good person, but I just can't seem to catch a break." She swirled the bottle and listened to the swish of its remaining contents, scowling at how little there was left and realizing that this was the last of her rather limited supply. "Shoulda bought some more before we left town," she muttered, then placed the bottle to her lips and tilted it back, emptying the bottle in one gulp and then gasping as the bitterness of the beer hit her. She then stretched full out on her back, glowering up at the ceiling.

"It just has to be us that get zapped back into the past through some freak accident straight out of a sci-fi novel. And then, as if that weren't bad enough, we just have to land in the headquarters of some secret organization that has us work for them to earn our room and board! To ice the cake, we wind up getting paired with two of the agency's most illustrious agents, and for the cherry on top – oy, what a choice of words – both Celeste and I have managed to get the hots for our dear colleagues and she's off wherever doing whatever with the Russian."

Elaine began to tap the empty bottle on the floor in an aggravated, irregular rhythm to counterpoint her ranting. "Just my luck, huh? She's come through this whole thing looking like a regular bloody hero and has even got her man as a bonus! I just get to play decoy, provide crowd control and beatdowns, and be denied whatever decent guy comes across my path for the stupidest of reasons. So what do I get out of this mess?" Sigh. "Drunk, that's what I get," she growled, lurching up from her rest, "and it's friggen' unfair!"

As it was, the door – left unlocked in her haste to be alone and her anger at the way events had unfolded – now edged open cautiously, and without much concern as to who might be opening it Elaine took aim and threw her empty at the visitor. Fortunately for both parties, her aim was heavily influenced by the alcohol she'd already consumed and the bottle missed Napoleon by several inches, bouncing harmlessly off the wall near the door and falling to the floor. "I come in peace, Elaine," Napoleon said by way of greeting. "I would lift my hands in surrender, but they're a little bit full right now."

Elaine realized her mistake and flushed bright red, then further realized what kind of an appearance she was putting forward and turned away so that the worst could not be seen. She had not anticipated company and thus had picked her most comfortable clothing – a faded tee shirt from one of her military schools and a pair of shorts just barely long enough to be decent – and had showered only long enough to erase the grime from her day's activities. Her hair, lacking any sort of chemical reinforcement, had returned to its natural wavy frizz, and she'd yet to remove any of the heavy eye makeup that she'd donned for her role with Alistair. "I'm a mess," she grumbled, waving a hand in dismissal to her guest. "Go away - you don't want to see this." When she heard no sounds of egress, she whirled and hissed, "Didn't you hear me?"

Napoleon had since disposed of his burdens and now turned to lock the door. "Yes, I heard you the first time. And believe me, I've seen worse."

"So you say." Elaine sank back down onto the sofa and turned her dark gaze on the wall, refusing to look at her visitor. "Why are you here? I'm sure you're passing up any number of prime social opportunities to visit with a drunken loser."

"The first part may be true, but not the last." The suit jacket came off first, laid over the back of the sofa next to a dry cleaning bag that had been placed there moments earlier. A few brisk hand movements unknotted and removed the coordinating necktie and put it in a jacket pocket for safekeeping, and as a final touch Napoleon unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. "Ah, much better. No, I'm not visiting a drunken loser, as you so delicately put it. I'm visiting a friend."

Elaine rolled her eyes when she heard this. "Ah. 'Friend' – that word again. I hear it a lot these days, and you know what? It's starting to grate on my nerves."

"So I've gathered," said Napoleon, moving the paper sack he'd brought in over to a place where Elaine could reach it if needed. "I'd say that's a topic we've beaten to death, but while we're on the subject, I'm here because another friend of yours asked me to come. Yet a second friend suggested that I bring beer, if only because Celeste promised certain death if you touched her vodka."

"She has nothing to worry about." Elaine peeked into the sack and let out a pleased squeak, then reached in and removed a fresh drink. "After a nasty experience I had with vodka when I was deployed overseas, I refuse to touch the stuff. Even the good stuff is two degrees off paint thinner to me."

Remembering her manners, Elaine held out the unopened bottle to Napoleon who accepted it along with the bottle opener that she tossed his way a few seconds later. "So, she decided to take pity on me and send you over with some sympathy beer, huh?"  
"Not so much sympathy as a thank you for coming through yet again. She said you were a welcome sight - " he popped the top off of a second bottle and handed it to Elaine before continuing " - and told me to tell you that you would have made Alice proud."

Elaine, having just taken a sip of her beverage as he said this, now fought hard not to spit it back out again as her shoulders shook with laughter. Napoleon, puzzled by this reaction, asked, "Is that someone you know?"

"No," Elaine replied after she'd composed herself. "Alice is one of those zombie-killing ass kickers I mentioned earlier, and my dress must've made Celeste think of her." Frown, then, "I'm gonna miss that dress. We really did a number on it in that little dustup..."

"Oh, you mean this one?" Napoleon tapped the dry cleaning bag with his free hand, savoring the happy shock on Elaine's face when she saw that her garment had been salvaged. "I had someone take it to get cleaned and fixed while you were being debriefed. Now that I know you can be a lady, maybe you can wear it again sometime."

Elaine's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she considered this idea. "Are you talking about another mission, or something else?"

An idle shrug. "Dinner and dancing – the usual, you know – and then we'll see where things go from there." Napoleon took a pull from his own drink and waited for Elaine to think this over. "Oh, and it was Illya's idea for me to bring the beer since he deprived you of your usual drinking companion. He also told me to tell you this, and pardon me now if I garble it – _zhivjeli_."

This short phrase brought a welcome smile to Elaine's features and she held up her beer in salute. "And cheers to you, sir. I might forgive him later for stealing my snuggle-bunny..."

Napoleon chuckled as he remembered what Elaine referred to, then hesitantly asked, "Well, ah, Celeste also mentioned that when you came from, that kind of behavior would have earned you a discharge from military service. That isn't why you left, is it?"

Again the near-spitting of beer, then, "Heaven's sake, Napoleon, no. We're close, but we're not that close – I thought you would've figured that out by now. The military booted me because they thought my ass was too big."

A disbelieving raising of eyebrows, then, "That's ridiculous. From what I've seen of it, I think what you've got is just fine."

Elaine's smile returned, along with a faint trace of the fiery blush seen earlier. "Why thank you, sir. It's nice to know I'm appreciated."


End file.
